Darkness Falling
by Rowan18
Summary: The present day. Will, the last of his kind, remains to battle a new rising of the Dark. This time the Dark has penetrated the hearts of men and preys on human hatreds and fears. Will must find a human champion to continue his fight.
1. Chapter 1 New Beginnings

_This is a draft of Chapter 1 of Darkness Falling, written May 19, 2007. I hope to have more chapters forthcoming within the next few weeks. Please let me know what you think. I've always felt the series ended too soon and was never satisfied with the ending. _

_Special thanks must be given to Gramarye __for his inspiration. I only wish he would write more…._

_Please be cautioned that this tale is set in the present day and deals with current events. _

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**Darkness Falling**

Chapter 1

Will turned into a storefront on the left side of the street. A tinny bell jingled slightly as he pushed open the door of the, The Not a Bit of Tea Coffee Shop, located only a few blocks from his college office. The shop was inhabited by Cambridge students peering deeply into the screens of laptop computers, absorbing the free internet access, and sipping gourmet coffees with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. Other students sat grouped on orange couches pushed in clusters against the brightly painted walls or at café tables for 4. World-beat music played through the café's speakers a level low enough to be heard without overpowering conversation or study.

"Your usual, Professor?" asked the pink-haired clerk behind the counter. Her black t-shirt and jeans were partially masked by a light blue apron covered with social-activist buttons.

"That would be great, thanks, Janice. By the by, I didn't see you in class yesterday, I hope that all is well." Will asked as Janice grabbed a recycled paper cup and started to fill it with coffee.

"Yes, everything is fine, Professor." Janice blushed and glanced down at the counter, not wishing to make eye contact with Will. "I had a late night….studying…and just didn't make it up in time. I won't happen again."

"You should come by my office hours – 3 p.m. tomorrow, to pick up the homework assignment. I wouldn't want you to fall behind."

"Sure thing, Professor." Janice smiled as she handed Will his coffee as he handed her funds for the beverage and a generous tip.

"Excuse me, but have we met before?" Will was startled by a voice directly to his right. Turning, he was faced by a smiling woman, her auburn hair liberally peppered with grey and silver. She was wearing tan slacks and a dark blouse buttoned to her neck. "My granddaughter and I just stopped in for hot cocoa, she's there by the window, when I caught site of you. I'm really sorry to interrupt, embarrassed really, but I could swear that we've met before."

Will gazed at her closely, "No, I don't believe we've met. Perhaps you've attended one of my lectures at the University?" _It couldn't be…_Will thought…_no. _

"My name is Jane Drew-Halligan. That's my granddaughter, Sarah." Jane nodded towards a little girl, perhaps 2 years old, seated at a small café table by the window and gingerly licking the whipped cream from the top of a ceramic mug." My daughter, her mother, attends University. I help her out when she's in class by keeping an eye on Sarah. It's been hard for her, since her husband…Well, I've said too much. Again, I'm sorry to have bothered you. I must be mistaken."

"No, it's no bother at all." Will smiled graciously, masking his inner-turmoil. Jane. Jane Drew. The last time he saw her, it was 1968. She was 15 years old and had helped save the world by participating in an epic battle against the Dark. Of course, she remembered none of this, her memories having been distorted, changed, so that she would forget. No human, could bear to live with the pain and loss brought about by the Dark. It was hard enough for Will to bear the knowledge of those events, of who he was, who he is.

She must be about 51 now, while Will looked as though he was 35. A timeless Old One. The last of his kind.

"What is your daughter's name? Perhaps she's one of my students. May I?" Will gestured towards an empty chair next to her granddaughter. "I'm Dr. Will Stanton, on the faculty with the history department at Cambridge."

"Of course." Jane resumed her seat as Will joined her at her table. "My daughter's name is Elizabeth Belkins. She's on her second year. A physics major."

_Elizabeth Belkins…,_ Will didn't know her well but had met her about a year ago at a memorial service for students with family who had been soldiers killed in battle in Iraq. There were so many students, faculty, and staff at that event who had been touched by war. By death. It was hard for him to block out the pain on their faces. Their hurt. Elizabeth's husband had died suddenly when his unit was stopped to make quick repairs on the vehicles. They had thought the region was "safe" when the bullets began to fly. That was almost two years ago. Her husband had never seen his new daughter.

"Yes, Mrs. Drew-Halligan. I have met your daughter, Elizabeth."

"Please, call me Jane. Oh, Elizabeth!" The little girl had managed to get whipped cream on her nose and was smiling and giggling. Jane pulled out a handkerchief to wipe Elizabeth's face as she squirmed. Will took a sip of his coffee and smiled, enjoying this brief window into a domestic life he would never have.

"It's strange." Will was broken from his thoughts by Jane's voice. He looked up from his coffee and saw that her bright blue eyes were gazing at him sharply. "I could swear that we had met before. It seems almost like I've seen you in a dream, long ago. Isn't that the strangest thing?"

"Well, I have been told that I have a very familiar face." Will was having second thoughts about deciding to sit with Jane. He was confident that her memories would not return, but if she had some recollection of him, perhaps the memories weren't as well buried as he would prefer. He didn't want to chance her remembering and decided it would be best to make his excuses and leave. "Just last week, my colleague, Dr. Jones, swore that I looked exactly like his niece's son, a dentist in Cardiff. At any rate, I've just remembered an appointment-"

Will broke off with a sharp intake of breath. _There is something…_he thought, _something Dark. That can't be._

"Dr. Stanton, is everything all right?" Jane looked at him, concerned.

Will wasn't listening. His every sense was on fire, tingling. He quickly scanned the room looking for something out of place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. About 15 students talked and joked with friends, or sat in isolation with their thoughts focused on their computer screens. Janice was wiping off a cappuccino machine, humming softly. Nothing was out of place.

The front door jingled as a single student wearing a bulky parka entered. _I know him_, thought Will. _He's in my freshman class on Roman civilization. Richard Penechant. _Will grabbed his temples with both hands as the tingling spiked to a sudden burst of fierce pain. _No!_ Walking slowly towards the center of the room, Richard reached his right hand into his grey jacket.

Will stood abruptly, his chair falling behind him, all his focus now on Richard. Suddenly a white light flashed behind Will and stretched across the room until it reached Richard. Then they vanished.

Richard tugged on a cord now protruding from his jacket. Then tugged again. "That won't work here." Will spoke, sternly. The power of the Light echoing his voice.

"What?" Richard turned quickly towards Will. Sweat beaded and poured from his pale face. He tugged again at the cord, frantically.

"I couldn't let you kill those people." Will spoke again.

"I…don't….understand…" Richard spun around in a circle, finally taking notice of his surroundings. He and Will were standing in the middle of a white room. No, not a white room. A room made out of light. "Where am I??" Richard's voice rose high in pitch. Fear now evident in his voice.

"I've taken you out of time." Will said flatly, his expression was blank but his grey eyes glinted with the reflection of the white light.

"What?" Richard gasped, his mouth hanging open.

"You just walked into a café with a bomb strapped to your chest," Will paused to glance at Richard's now open coat, wires and explosive easily in view. "I'd like to know why."


	2. Chapter 2

_This next chapter is not the second and is out of order. It will be properly placed shortly._

_This is the spot. _Will paused in front of a watch repair shop and closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _I can sense him. He was here._ He slowly reached out his right hand and spread five fingers.

Will opened his eyes to a sky filled with stars and a night illuminated by firelight. Looking around, he saw Roman soldiers clustered under cloaks around campfires singing and telling heroic tales.

"Halt!" A soldier, remembering his duty, confronted Will who had not yet moved. Will's clothes had transformed from his modern dress to become a dark blue cloak, dark leather tunic, and trousers.

"Salvo, Centurion." Will spoke in perfect ancient Latin, the power of his magic bringing all languages to him with ease. "I am here to see your commander. Marcus Leo." Will's voice was calm and steady with a firm authority that would allow no dissent from the soldier.

"Right this way. Follow me." The centurion turned and swept his arm forward towards a row of torches across the camp. Will followed, weaving his way around the small clusters of soldiers. The soldier stopped in front of a large tent painted with bright colors. He spoke quickly and quietly to a sentry who then ducked inside the tent. Presumably to pass on word of Will's arrival. The sentry was only gone for a moment before exiting the tent and returning to whisper quickly to the centurion.

"Right." Spoke the centurion. "He will see you. In you go."

Will ducked into the tent. The tent was illuminated by a large lantern hanging from the roof's poles as well as several smaller lanterns on tables throughout the tent. Silk hangings swayed in a slight draft and elaborately woven rugs covered the dirt floor.

"Greetings Old One," spoke the tent's single occupant in the Old Speech.

Will returned the greeting and bowed his head towards the commanding figure in the tent's center. "Merriman, it's good to see you again, old friend."

"Will. Please sit." Merriman gestured towards a heavily cushioned bench and sat in a large carved chair opposite. Will slowly took his seat as Merriman poured two glasses of a dark wine from a ceramic pitcher. He handed a glass to Will before taking a drink himself.

"I must admit that it is good to see you too. But you should not be here. I regret that I can offer you no assistance." Merriman sighed deeply and reached up to rub his furrowed brow. "My existence here is simply that of a memory, an imprint on the events of history. I have no power. All that I was, all that I was to be has left your universe." Merriman paused to look directly into Will's eyes. "You know this is the Law."

"Yes. I do know." Will looked down, unable to make eye contact with Merriman.

"I knew that when we left you as Watchman that your journey would be difficult. Your mission would be lonely. You must continue to be strong. Tap into the strength of the Light to be your solace."

Will glanced up from his lap to meet Merriman's gaze. "I can feel the Dark returning. I don't know how…if I even can…do battle again, and alone."

"Are you alone? Have all men given themselves over to the Dark? Is all hope in your time lost? Have men stopped fighting for what is Right?" Merriman's voice grew deeper; his eyes gleamed with a fire brighter than the lantern light.

"No….They have not given up all hope. But they fight and they kill. They bomb the innocent or line them up for mass executions. I can feel a glimmer of the Dark, growing stronger, becoming more pervasive as people turn a blind eye. They seem more interested in news of American pop stars than a savage genocide taking place several hundred miles away. So many have died….I have seen too many die…"

"Every man, every woman has within him a spark of Light and a spark of Dark. That has always been the way. Do you believe that none are left who would do battle for the Light? None who would yield there lives in service of that spark of Light?"

"No."

"Then until that day, there will always be hope." Merriman stood abruptly and walked to the edge of the tent. His faced masked in shadow. "Look to a leader of men. Look for the one who will lead this fight." Merriman's voice took on an edge of prophecy. "You are the Watchman. This is not your battle to fight, but it is the duty of Man to win."

Will stood, setting his glass down on a small table. He stepped under the lantern at the center of the tent. He had just noticed that its base was etched with a repeating pattern of circles quartered by crosses. Merriman stepped towards Will and grabbed his shoulder tightly. "Will, be strong. The Light is with you always."

"Thank you, friend." Will stepped back from Merriman, bowed low and vanished.


End file.
